


Plain As The Ink on Your Skin

by MistyDeath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Draco Malfoy & Ron Weasley Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Oblivious, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 09:10:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyDeath/pseuds/MistyDeath
Summary: Cormac had chosen a pun for a tattoo. It made Ron want to groan even as he laughed his ass off. Draco glared at him and sighed in defeat. Yet neither could deny that it fitted Cormac rather perfectly. Which, was probably why it drew the reactions it did from the two of them.





	Plain As The Ink on Your Skin

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  This fic was inspired by a Tumblr post, [here](http://penroseparticle.tumblr.com/post/177245309147/so-i-just-went-with-my-buddy-while-he-got-a-rib). I needed a break from working on fest fics, and this inspired me to another level. I hope you all enjoy!  
> 

Everything in the world was telling him not to, but since when had Ron Weasley listened to his intuition? There he was, standing in Draco Malfoy’s tattoo parlour,  _Alexandrite,_ listening to Cormac McLaggen, roommate extraordinaire and frequenter of his dreams, discuss the terms and conditions of his appointment.

Draco was checking over the contract. “You are aware that the ribs hurt the most, right? And that I can’t stop the pain without putting you in harm’s way?”

Cormac nodded and Malfoy looked to Ron for help. Ron only shrugged, knowing that he was dealing with two of the most stubborn idiots he’d ever met. “It’s what he wants, mate.”

“I’m not your mate,” Draco reminded him before turning to Cormac, and Ron stuck his tongue out at him. “Alright then! So, did you want this to go anywhere else? Move it up and down the side or around your back, maybe? Those are quite popular with Quidditch players these days.”

“Definitely! What are the options you’ve got?”

 

Ron was wandering around the shop while Draco got Cormac set up in the Draft Room. From what he remembered this part would under thirty minutes, because usually between Draco and the customer, he’d never had someone who didn’t leave the shop excited. If someone left only satisfied, Draco considered himself a failure, and for that Ron could relate. Working at the Wheezes had shown him quite a bit of love for entrepreneurship and craftmanship, and backing George’s theories and experiments was something of a dream he didn’t want to step out of. Even if some days it involved a lot of pain.

His favorite spot in the store was the plaque Draco had just below the display case, just underneath an ever-changing hologram that suited itself with the viewer’s own tattoo taste.  _There is only one example of a bad tattoo and the owner is more than happy to show you for a price._ Initially he’d thought it was a bit macabre, and that it would surely chase customers away – but Draco insisted it often cemented the customers’ love for their own ideas. He’d yet to receive a request to see the Dark Mark, and there were still times where Ron dreaded Harry’s reaction the day it happened. For now, the amount of money that sign had won over a parent’s insistence was enough to keep Harry and Draco in a comfortable ten-bedroom house, let alone the Manor.

 

Cormac had chosen a pun for a tattoo. It made Ron want to groan even as he laughed his ass off. Draco glared at him and sighed in defeat. Yet neither could deny that it fitted Cormac rather perfectly. Which was probably why it drew the reactions it did from the two of them. It was a protein shaker cup decorated with the evocative phrase,  _Get Wheysted._ Cormac didn’t seem to care what the phrase evoked from those who saw it. Only that “this was the best suggestion the hallucination station in the front of the store gave him.”

He’d asked for it on the ribs because it was the perfect distance between the heart and his abs, things he was apparently “fiercely dedicated to protecting and developing them to their fullest.”

Still, whatever alignment the ‘hallucination station’ in the front display had given him, Cormac seemed to be regretting the cocky decision. When Draco had started placing the outline, he’d hissed and cursed some, but now the man was straight up shaking. “If I were you,” Draco suggested, “I’d take a hold of his hand to give him something else to concentrate on, Weasley.”

 

Draco was about as straight as he was likely to fuck a Hippogriff, so Ron took everything he said about Ron’s interactions with Cormac with about a pound of salt ever since he’d drunkenly let it slip that ‘maybe Cormac was fit, if he wasn’t such an arse.’ He’d practically copied Harry’s own confession about Draco word for word. It had taken him all of two minutes to realize what he’d said and what it meant in combination with the two knowing looks he’d received afterwards. 

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” Ron mumbled, looking away at his Spellular as Cormac crushed his hand to oblivion. His teeth were gritted and his eyes looked like they were going to open the flood gates at any minute. “I can guarantee you that plenty of people have, even Harry.” At that, Draco snorted.

“Oh, Harry’s cried, alright. Right on this very table, even.”

Ron grimaced at the implications and his look soured when Cormac asked what kind of tattoo Harry got.  _Merlin this man was oblivious, how on Earth was Ron supposed to get with_ that. Draco beamed at him and went on about something Ron knew had to be made up, if the clear mirth in his eyes was anything to go by. Even if Ron knew that Draco was something short of a neat freak and that the man took pride in having been nominated one of the healthiest parlours in the Alley, it was the image that turned his stomach. Then the conversation turned towards something Ron could’ve gone without.

 

“So, you two must be close – I reckon living together has improved things between the two of you?”

“Of course! I see Ron every night – we’re the best mates! If he’s not hanging out with some of your lot he’s probably with me,” Cormac laughed. This was true, and Draco knew it because the times that Ron hung out with Draco and Harry instead of Cormac often seemed laced with stories of how insane this man was. If he had told himself in sixth year that this was how his future life would look, Ron would’ve pitched himself off the Quidditch hoops.

But now he loved hanging around Cormac. The flat they shared was great, and even if it looked like a hurricane had gone through every so often, it was home. The inside was thrumming with the delightful combination of their magic and made something settle inside him he’d only just recently decided to look into. However, Ron was still looking forward to the addition they were going to put in next month, because as far as he was concerned the place was a little too plain for his taste, and Cormac had only gotten a few days off practice recently.

Harry still swore the second that Cormac revealed his love for Ron’s fanaticism with the Cannons (“That’s the right kind of enthusiasm! Get energized! Holy hell Ron you could easily get them to sponsor you – why on Earth haven’t they yet?!”) was the moment everyone knew they’d end up together.

 

At that thought, Draco must have hit a particularly sore spot because Ron lost all ability to feel his hand up to just past his wrist.

“Fuck, Cor, could you lay it off?”

“N – no – that fuckin’  _hurts_ ,” he breathed through his nose. “A lot.”

Draco hummed something about ‘just-a-mo’ before Ron’s hand was released slightly. He was grateful he wasn’t squeamish, because there was a serious amount of blood being wiped away. Magical tattoos always had a certain level of graphicness Ron didn’t care for, nor wanted to appreciate.

“Sorry about that – had to get the detail right otherwise the spell wouldn’t cast properly.” Cormac nodded, face slightly pinked up in the cheeks, before he asked Ron if he could get him a bottle of water. Ron agreed and cast Draco a dark look, who put his hands up innocently and swore he wouldn’t continue without Ron there.

 

“Even if it hurts like a Quaffle to the balls, it’s looking great.”

“Vivid imagery, thank you. I wouldn’t do it in the first place if I didn’t know you’d like it.” Ron reckoned he wouldn’t do it at all. Or ever again.

 

“So how have you and Harry, been, then? You two have got to be thick as thieves right now.” …even if Ron had heard a million comments similar to that, they still pained him.  _Christ_ that was next level oblivious. When Cormac took the bottle and drank it, Draco shot him the most exasperated look he’d ever received from the man. Heaven help them. His exasperated look grew when Cormac gave Ron the second half of the bottle to finish off. Keeping eye contact with Draco Malfoy as he drank a bottle of water had to be the gayest thing he’d done to date.

 

After throwing the bottle away, Ron took his seat again by Cormac’s side and took a little too much pleasure in the sweaty grasp that wrapped around his proffered hand. “Oh, you know, we’ve been okay. It would be sonice, however, to see him every once in a while.” Ron wasn’t sure if he should be worried that they were discussing…marital? Relationship? Problems while someone was having a needle inject ink and magic into them, but Draco continued on like it was nothing.

He never did anything direct with Draco, so he casually started asking while browsing through his Spellular. “He’s just – he gets a little overwhelmed with everything, yeah? I’m sure he knows what’s going on.”

“Ron, I know you love him, but when on Earth has Harry ever been anything but oblivious when it comes to this?” The fact that  _Cormac_ was saying that –  _fuck_. “You remember how long it took us to get him to ask this guy out in the first place?” Both Ron and Draco snorted at that. “Okay – fine. You know what I mean. You’re important to him – he’ll get out of it eventually and soon enough we’ll be hearing non-stop crap about your sex life  _that I did not need to know about_.” 

After tapping the glowing tube system to swap colors, Draco continued. “Mmmmm…it’s been at least two weeks since I saw him awake. Here I thought we were doing okay – but,” he sighed, “now I just got notified the bastard’s going to be going off for a few months on some expedition? I think you’ve heard about it, Ron?” He was colouring in a rainbow of colors into his roommate’s rather impressive looking tattoo. Even if it was a damn protein shaker, the font would certainly pop with anything that came out.  

Cormac squeezed his hand hard again, and gave Ron a look, eyebrows raised. Draco certainly hadn’t done anything to warrant that reaction –  _oh_.

 

Ron was watching Cormac flex in a mirror later, watching the shaker – well,  _shake_ – and slosh its contents around happily on his ribs, while he hatched his plan to save his friend from what would surely be a gruesome death via Draco. Cormac winced a bit as it shifted up to his shoulder, but still smiled as he threw his shirt on. “Thanks a bunch, Dray!” Ron laughed as he gave Draco a side hug, the blonde man’s voice muffled under Cormac’s shoulder. “…why do I put up with you.”

“Man, I can’t wait to come along when you get yours in a few months’ Ron!” Again, Draco shot him the Look. Ron ignored, partly out of spite that Cormac had somehow gotten an appointment before him,  _despite them being closer_.

 

He stuck around a second while Cormac went to go across the street for some food. Watching Draco clean up the area for another customer, Ron coughed. “Yes?”

“Uh – I’m not trying to - ” he said and then paused as he tried to figure out how to word it properly under Draco’s bored stare, “ – uhhh…dyouwantmetotalktoHarryforyou.”

 

The unhelpful wave of his hand was enough. Ron knew what he had to do next.

 

* * *

 

Five minutes later he burst his way into Harry’s Ministry office. “Harry – what on  _earth_ are you doing?!”

 

“Ron, I’m in the middle of something rather important –” 

“– the hell is so important that you can’t manage to see your almost fucking fiancé for more than two weeks?! I was the in the parlour with Cormac today and the guy was going to pieces over there! _He showed emotion_. Three months?!” Harry stared at him and motioned towards the men around the table, making a clear ‘get out, we’ll finish this later,” motion that went over Ron’s head entirely. 

“And here I thought you had the fucking ring and everything – you said you were going to propose to Draco like a month ago! I haven’t heard anything and neither has anyone else so what the hell are you playing at?!” At that, even Kingsley coughed awkwardly.

Ron seemed to take stock of his surroundings. Robards was glaring at him –  _well fuck him too_. “Uh – Minister, I’m sorry – I just, well – y’know -” At Robards’ pointed look, however, Ron turned and left, but not before flipping Harry a two fingered salute in combination with a faced he hoped sent a clear “ _We’re fucking talking after this._ ”

 

He was incredibly interested with his  _Witch Weekly_ when they all filed out of Harry’s office, thank you very much. If Ron jumped up and threw himself through the open door afterwards, no one needed to know.

 

Harry didn’t even give him a second to shout. “Ron, I  _did_ propose last month. We are engaged, and I’d like to say, very  _happily_ so, if the scuff marks across  _that_ bleeding hallway are any indication. However -” Harry paused, looking rather miffed, “I had been on this case for the last year and I wanted to see it through. Felt it was only appropriate, you know? Sorry about hiding it – we wanted to have some sort of event to announce it properly…” And as Harry went on, Ron realized something with a cold dread.

“He played me like a damn fiddle.” Harry laughed and got up to show Ron to the door.

“He did – but  _now_ ,” he paused dramatically, hands in the air, and Ron tensed at the clear influence Draco had on him, “I’ve a nice four weeks’ off thanks to you – and I couldn’t be happier! Now go off and rile him up for me for doing that so I can actually relax after fixing this mess?” Ron groaned.

“TMI, Harry. TMI.”

“You asked for it – literally.”

 

* * *

 

Ron stormed into Draco’s parlour just as he was closing up and threw out an accusatory finger at the blonde man in question.

 

“You played me!” Oh, and did he ever want to punch the smirk that slid its way across his face before Draco laughed.

“I merely used the opportunities handed to me to make a good situation even better, Weasley.” Oh,  _so they were on a last name basis now, eh_?

Ron threw his hands up and sank into the seat of the nearest station. He pointed at Draco. “Do you understand just how fucking idiotic I looked – in front of the fucking Minister, no less – shouting at my best mate for ignoring the prickly asshole he likes to call  _HIS BLEEDING FIANCE_? _”_

“If taking advantage of your propensity to advocate for people you love is a bad thing, Weasley,” Draco sighed, “then I guess I’m just the bloody worst in the world, now aren’t I?” If there was one thing Ron hated the most, it was being taken advantage of for things he himself would’ve done in a heartbeat. How he managed to not blow up again, Ron didn’t know.

 

“Bloody – fucking – Slytherin –” Draco laughed again, and walked towards him while shuttering the blinds and dimming the lights to the store. He watched as Draco flicked his wand, and all the stations folded themselves up and sunk into the strange collapsing stairway storage systems beneath them. Ron barely stood up in time to avoid being sent down along with one. It was a rather complicated bit of magic, and once again, Ron was irked at the display in the face of his over-eager actions. “Oh, I do hope so, if I play my cards right. You did deal me with the winning hand, after all – do be a dear and lock the door on your way out, would you?”

“Fuck you, Malfoy.”

“Out. And do go fuck your ‘roommate’, for once, Weasley. He’s dreadfully oblivious to his own actions.”

“Congrats. And get fucked, Malfoy.”

“Thank you. You do so lovingly play right into my hands -” Ron threw himself out the door before he could hear the end of it.

 

What on Earth Harry saw in him, Ron would never know. But he had a Cormac, not a Malfoy, to seduce, so clearly any advice from Harry was useless.

 


End file.
